


My Pleasure

by missmichellebelle



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Awkward Flirting, First Meetings, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 15:15:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9613385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmichellebelle/pseuds/missmichellebelle
Summary: “Yeah, because they just give free milkshakes to everyone."





	

**Author's Note:**

> so, uh. I've been working on about three different YOI fics, but they are all like... very long. stupidly, annoyingly long, and I got impatient and just wanted to write something and pop that cherry and... today I got a free milkshake at Chick-Fil-A and, well, I guess that's inspiration? or something?
> 
> lol I promise something more profound in the future, I promise.

“Oh no.”

Phichit pauses, a fry halfway to his mouth, and blinks at him. Yuuri avoids the stare, slumping in his chair and hoping that maybe, _maybe_ , it makes him less noticeable and also partially invisible.

“What?” Phichit asks, when Yuuri doesn’t immediately clarify his sudden need to not exist. He pops in the fry like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

Yuuri wishes he could eat fries like he didn’t care about anything in the world. It must be a nice way to go about life.

“I just awkwardly made eye contact with one of the guys who works here,” Yuuri mumbles into the cowl of his turtleneck, shuffling his shoulders and fidgeting his fingertips against the tabletop.

“Really?” Phichit’s eyes brighten and he immediately turns to look behind him. “Which one?”

“P-Phichit!” Yuuri’s hand fumbles blindly across the table, nearly knocking fries and soda everywhere in his mad dash attempt to grab onto Phichit’s arm. He misses, but he manages to snag onto the fabric of his sweatershirt, and he gives it a firm, insistent tug. “Don’t _look_.”

But Yuuri knows that as soon as he says it that it’s useless. They’ve been friends long enough for Yuuri to know that telling Phichit _not_ to do something is just as good as flat out telling him that he has to. Never to any severe repercussions, of course, but Phichit doesn’t really see Yuuri’s abject humiliation and embarrassment as _severe repercussions_ quite the way that Yuuri himself does.

“Oh-ho, is it that hot one?” Phichit asks, _still looking_. Yuuri keeps his eyes securely glued to the laminate table top. It’s not as if _the hot one_ is a good descriptor for Yuuri, anyway, and there is no way he is looking anywhere in that general area for the rest of their time here. “It has to be, he keeps looking over here.”

Yuuri can see enough of Phichit to see that he’s _waving_. He groans, and sinks further down in his chair, only for his back to protest at him. He reluctantly sits up straight again, but keeps his head ducked, wishing he had a beanie with him so he could pull it down over his face and hide his shame.

“Please stop engaging with my mistake,” Yuuri moans into his hands, and Phichit laughs, turning back to face him.

“Is that what we’re calling it now?” He asks amused, and then waves the question away with several flaps of his hand. “Well, I’m done, you can engage with him now.”

What?

“What?”

_What?_

“He’s coming over here.” Phichit grins, popping another fry into his mouth, and Yuuri just stares at him.

“ _What?_ ”

“Hi.”

Yuuri closes his eyes for a moment, breathes, and then stares at Phichit and not at the very obvious presence of the person standing just beside his shoulder.

“Can I get you two anything else? More sauce, a beverage refreshment?” His voice is… Very nice. Lilting and pleasant and somehow drawing warmth to Yuuri’s cheeks just with the sound of it.

Maybe, if he concentrates hard enough, he will die right then and there.

“Oh, no, I’m fine. Yuuri?” Phichit raises his eyebrows, a look of absolute _glee_ on his face, like he gets some sick, sadistic pleasure out of watching Yuuri _suffer_.

He needs a new best friend.

“I’m fine,” he says, too quickly, shoulders hunching up to his ears, and then breathes again. “Thank you,” he tacks on, because his mother raised him better and because, for better or for worse, this exchange is now over and he can eat his horribly delicious fast food in peace.

“My pleasure.” The words are silky smooth and Yuuri feels like they slide down his neck and spine. A shiver runs up their path. “Could I offer either of you anything else? Dessert, maybe?”

Are the people who work here _always_ this friendly? Yuuri is pretty sure they’ve never been this attentive before. He can _feel_ eyes staring at him and fidgets against the urge to meet them. He will not, he will not, he will not.

“I think Yuuri was thinking of getting a milkshake.” Phichit tips his cheek into his hand, cocking his head coyly. “Isn’t that right?”

Yuuri’s gaze turns wide and frantic, like maybe Phichit can read the, _What in the world are you doing?_ he’s desperately trying to convey.

Phichit grins.

“Oh, really?”

How is it even possible to hear a smile?

“Y-yeah.” Yuuri swallows. “Maybe. I-I wasn’t sure—I’ll probably go and, and get one in a bit.” He hopes it isn’t obvious how horrendously he’s shaking.

“I can go ahead and get it for you.” The figure beside him shifts slightly. “On the house.”

This time, _this time_ , Yuuri looks. He’s too shocked _not_ to. His eyes land on the familiar uniform all the employees here work, and then travel upwards, landing on the brilliant blue eyes which were the only thing he remembered from his awkward eye contact moment. He sees now that they’re set in a beautifully sculpted face framed by honest-to-god _silver_ hair.

How in the world does someone like _this_ end up working _here?_

Approximately three seconds later, when the beautiful stranger is laughing softly and Phichit’s grin has reached a point bordering on _manic_ , Yuuri realizes he said that out loud.

“Uh,” strange beautiful man starts, running a hand through his hair. It falls perfectly back into place. “Work-study? I go to the local college.” He tips his head just enough that it seems like he’s sharing a secret, which is enhanced by the way he drops his voice and says, “and all the library jobs were taken.”

“Isn’t that funny, Yuuri?” Phichit pipes in. “He goes to the local college, just like _us_. And you know who works in the library?” Phichit’s eyes are practically sparkling with whatever it is that he’s up to, and Yuuri tries to subtly shake his head even though he knows that Phichit is like an oncoming steam train: there’s nothing stopping him now. “You!”

Okay, Yuuri is ready to disappear into his sweater again.

“Oh really?” His voice settles on Yuuri’s shoulders like a soft caress. “What a small world.” Yuuri’s eyes flash to his quickly and is greeted with a smile, and it’s so infectious that Yuuri somehow finds himself giving one in return. “So, about that milkshake, Yuuri.” The intensity of the eye contact that Yuuri suddenly finds himself involved in is more intimate than most things he’s experienced in his young adult life. “What’ll it be? Cookies and cream is my favorite.”

“O-okay.” Somehow Yuuri’s voice comes out weirdly soft and breathy and makes the back of his neck hot. It’s extremely unfair that this guy knows Yuuri’s name and he has no idea what his is—why doesn’t this place believe in name tags? Beautiful stranger has a slightly weird look on his face, and Yuuri’s suddenly wondering if he did something wrong, having all the time in the world to dwell on it as the employee excuses himself to go and get Yuuri’s milkshake.

“What just happened?” Yuuri finds himself asking, his eyes tracking the stranger’s back as he walks away, and Phichit is a bubbling and gurgling fountain of delighted giggles.

“You just got a free milkshake.” Phichit has his phone out, and Yuuri already wonders how much of what just happened is on snapchat. “Seriously, the next time you tell me you are bad at flirting, I’m using this as evidence.”

“Evidence?” Yuuri splutters. “I didn’t _do_ anything!” If anything, it should be exhibit A of why one Yuuri Katsuki is bad at flirting and has never had a boyfriend of any sort. Phichit was here the whole time, he saw the stuttering and the inability to speak and the… Well, the _everything_.

Phichit ducks his head and bats his eyelashes. “ _How does someone like_ you _end up working_ here?” It’s clearly supposed to be an imitation of Yuuri, but it sounds too… Coy. And maybe flirty? Yuuri has never been good at discerning flirtation from kindness. Phichit laughs again. “Poor guy, I think he fell in love with you immediately.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” People don’t _fall_ for Yuuri. It’s not a thing that happens.

“Yeah, because they just give free milkshakes to everyone. That’s why he offered me one,” Phichit teases. He holds up his phone again. “The worst kinds of heart breakers are the ones who don’t even know they are ones.”

“Stop filming me.” Yuuri swats at Phichit’s camera, but he evades the attack, snickering in good humor the whole time. “Listen, he’s just… Being nice. He probably gives plenty of people free milkshakes.” The thought, however practical, is a lot more disappointing than Yuuri was expecting. He rubs absently at his chest, like maybe it’ll alleviate the feeling.

“You are _hopeless_.” But Phichit seems to find more delight than frustration from this, and Yuuri sighs, slumping back in his chair.

“One cookies and cream milkshake.”

The proclamation is the only thing that announces the employee’s return, and he presents the styrofoam cup with a flourish. “For Yuuri.” He winks.

He _winks_.

Yuuri’s mouth hangs open, but no words are forthcoming.

“Now.” His attention is fully on Yuuri, and Yuuri can’t find it in himself to look away. It’s like the Phichit, the restaurant, and all the patrons cease to exist for the moment of a single breath. “Can I get you anything else?”

You?

That time, thankfully, Yuuri doesn’t actually voice his thoughts, but he does manage a small shake of his head.

“N-no. Thank you.” It’s hard to speak when there’s a lump the size of a baseball in his throat suddenly.

There’s a sure and gentle touch to his wrist then, and Yuuri traces the fingertips to the hand and up the arm to the beautiful stranger. It feels like his blood freezes in his veins.

“My pleasure.” The smile is butter soft and warm, and then it brightens to its full power as his hand withdraws and he straightens. “Maybe I’ll see you around the library sometime.” And with that, he leaves, and Yuuri is left to stare dumbly after him, still not quite capable of processing what exactly just happened.

He looks at the milkshake, topped with a beautiful swirl of whipped cream and a bright red cherry, like he can’t really have it—when his eyes catch on bold, black writing on the cup that doesn’t belong to the design.

It says **Victor** in neat, printed lettering, with ten numbers very clearly written below it. Almost like a… Oh.

 _Oh_.

Yuuri looks up, eyes wide, and catches Victor’s eyes across the lobby. He gets a soft smile and gentle tip of the head in return, and Yuuri ducks his gaze, gripping the fabric of his shirt over his heart.

He’s going to go out on a limb here and say that maybe, _maybe_ , Victor was flirting with him.

(It is, quite honestly, the best milkshake Yuuri has ever had.)

**Author's Note:**

> [read, reblog, like, or come talk to me on tumblr!](http://missmichellebelle.tumblr.com/post/156920794415/my-pleasure)


End file.
